


The ephemeralness of cherry blossoms

by Tenshibara



Category: Sekiro: Shadows Die Twice (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Existential Crisis, Existentialism, Fluff, Gen, Introspection, Tenderness, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-02-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:21:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22635856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tenshibara/pseuds/Tenshibara
Summary: “Sometimes, it saddens me seeing the cherry blossoms fall. Why is it that their fate is to perish while we are delighted by its death…? I am not sure if it is good or not to rejoice about it. What do you think, Wolf?”
Relationships: Kuro | The Divine Heir & Sekiro | Wolf
Comments: 2
Kudos: 28





	The ephemeralness of cherry blossoms

He recognized his voice, his giggles barely silenced by his small hands, his copious breathing due to the still cold air in spring, his tiny steps feeling about the tatami. He had engraved in his memory each one of his mannerisms, making sure to review them in his mind in order to always keep his guard up even when the child was playing around him —something he should not do, but he was no one to oppose him—. Thus, he did not unfold his katana, nor did he dispose his shuriken when Kuro threw himself against his back in an ambush too loud to be called one; nonetheless, the little child, in constant growth, managed to alter his parsimonious respiration because of his weight.

“Did I scare you?” he said, embracing his neck with both arms, restraining the guffaws that wanted to erupt from his lip, although he knew it was not appropriate.

“… A little bit,” he opted to lie just to please him.

Kuro shrank his legs to hang on his shoulders, without caring the man was dirty, or blood was still staining his clothes. He put his cheek near the adult’s ear, spying on what he was doing with Kusabimaru. As always, he was cleaning it, handling it with extreme care behind the excuse —or explanation he had once given Kuro— that Kusabimaru was the one who would be his sword and shield when fighting, therefore, he had to take care of it and treasure it painstakingly. That day, Kuro learnt that, perhaps, non-living objects could possess a soul if given. Reminiscing about the anecdote, Kuro asked:

“If you must take care and treasure Kusabimaru, is it likewise you apply that for me?”

“…” the shinobi dwelled about the question, inquiring himself if he had to expose his heart or not to his Lord’s naïve words. “The purpose of this katana and this life,” he touched his chest, “is to be entrusted entirely to your resolutions. Being it looking after you or complying with any work you request. For I am just a pawn you can dispose of as you please.”

“Um…” Kuro shook his legs, climbing up his belt once he noticed he was losing his grip around his neck. “You are like a loyal dog… Or would it be a loyal Wolf? Do concepts of loyalty apply to wolfs? Am I able to extrapolate them? Um…”

At his short age, Kuro expressed himself as an adult did, although he liked to ponder about childish matters every time he could. Wolf enjoyed serving to an educated man, one who knew what he was doing, and who was not dirtied by the greed that abounded in adults. Sometimes, he just wished to protect the innocence Kuro held.

“All in all,” he sighed, laughing quietly when the shinobi’s disheveled hair tickled his face, “may I request something from you?”

“As you wish,” he replied immediately, though his curiosity had been stung by what the child would ask him.

“Take me to see the cherry blossoms,” he said, perching on his shoulders while, out of habit, the adult rushed to stabilize him and position his small hands on his head for better comfort.

The shinobi did not wait any longer, he proceeded to sheath his katana and secured the child’s legs between his hands. He set off with his usual stealth, which Kuro enjoyed plentiful by watching the expressions of the estate’s workers once they got notice on them when they brushed beside them. Ones paled, others reddened of pure anger, some greeted them flustered. In the end, everyone exhibited the same face of one who has seen a ghost.

Despite his stoicism, his obstinacy for respecting the intangible lines between master and shinobi, Kuro liked Wolf. In his stare he could read thousand of hidden feelings behind his impassive demeanor, searching for the minimum trigger to overflow the chaos that coexisted in his inner self; being it good or bad, he did not know, they would have to discover it in the future. However, Kuro was almost certain that there was kindness in his transparent pupils, he just had to dive greatly.

“Put me down,” he asked.

At once, the shinobi took his hands back to grab him by his armpits and put him on the ground easily, regardless of the boy kicking the air for no reason. Wolf observed him running trough the fallen petals, trying to catch some in midair. At times like that, he reminded himself that his Lord was a mere child, sometimes too mature for his age, and others too immature. He knew by first hand what was to have his childhood snatched, on behalf of the survival on a damned land, and he did not wish for Kuro to deal with the cruel reality so soon.

“Sometimes, it saddens me seeing the cherry blossoms fall,” he commented, stopping his fit of playfulness, putting his hands behind his back and backing in direction of the adult. “They are dying. They make think of the ephime… epheme… ephe…” he sighed, frustrated for not been able to pronounce the word. “Ephemeral. E-phe-me-ral. They make think of the ephemeralness of life. They are beautiful, dyeing the landscape of colors we could not enjoy in other seasons; then, why is it that their fate is to perish while we are delighted by its death…? I am not sure if it is good or not to rejoice about it. What do you think, Wolf?”

“…” The man took him by his shoulders when he almost collided against his chest; as usual, Wolf was kneeled before him in order to be at his same height. The boy turned over his heels, waiting for an answer. “It is in ephemeralness where true beauty is found,” he stated with his grave and lacking lilting voice. “The fleeting of life is what makes it a precious and inalienable belonging, in spite of humanity trying to go against it,” he paused a couple of seconds, thinking his next words, oblivious of the sparkle that had emerged in Kuro’s obscure eyes, as if he was having an epiphany. “Cherry blossoms are dying, but in order to reawaken next year and captivate people. It is in their nature; thus, I do not believe it is sad to see them withering so soon. For it is just a natural cycle we are honored to admire.”

“I think I understand,” Kuro acquiesced, blinking several times, turning around again and caressing his chin, deep in thought. “I thank you for your honesty, Wolf. I did not think you…” he stopped and shook his head. “Nevermind.”

Kuro never thought possible that his shinobi was so delicate when talking, exposing his beliefs airily, but coherently; not when he was the emissary of death. He would have to consider his words to get to a proper answer; however, in the time being, he simply spun back to find the shinobi engrossed in his thoughts, paying attention to his Master the moment he felt his gaze over him.

“My Lord?”

“For some strange reason,” he started, resting his soft and warm hands in the adult’s rough cheeks due to his fuzz. He took notice on how the shinobi jumped because he did not understand why someone of his nature could be touch so gently by The Divine Heir. “I have the slight impression you will partake with an important role in something in my future, as if the fact that our paths had intertwined was an indefectible event, traced by the gods themselves to orchestrate something that goes beyond our understanding. Despite that presentiment, my shinobi, I do believe you would make the right decision when that time arrives; after all, my life is on your hands.

The shinobi separated his lips to reply something, while his frown got deeper. However, Kuro covered his mouth with his hands, gifting him a tender smile.

“You do not need to answer. For now, I think it would be a great idea if we return. I left my calligraphy lessons halfway, and I do not wish for my tutor to suffer another hysteric crisis.

The wind blew, taking with it Kuro’s soft chuckles, transporting it to every corner around the castle, lifting the petals, and filling the air in the fragrance of cherry blossoms, creating breathtaking scenery. While his words spoke the truth, Wolf could not muster the courage, nor being daring enough, to comment about the fact that his Little Lord did not realize the wonderful being he himself was. Everyone serving under him would be willing to give their lives to protect him because even a blind would notice that child was born to make great things on that land.

Once again, Wolf watched the boy’s small and straight frame, following him loyally while he inquired himself about what Lord Kuro had mentioned a couple of minutes ago. If he could abide by The Iron Code, he would do everything for his Lord. Suddenly, a prick of doubt pinched his heart, what if it came a day he had to decide on the contrary? Would he follow Kuro in all his needs, or would he be loyal to The Iron Code —to his Father—? Would he manage to accomplish the task he was supposed to complete on that earthly life?

Questions thronged one after another in his brain, confounding him and filling him up of uncertainty. He shook his head to organize his thoughts and empty his mind. He would comply with Kuro’s orders. Perhaps it was not the right time to answer those inquiries. When that moment came, he would make sure to be clearheaded and recognize the complete outlook to choose wisely.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked this as much as I did while working on it ^^


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